Sunday, May 7, 2017

Words From The Attic... When Johnny Comes Marching Home

In the jungle
or sweltering desert
war is just fucking ugly.

A necessary evil at times... though.

When Johnny Comes Marching Home

The flowers
And the tree's
They both stand alone
Like rebels with a cause
And a broken bone

And the sun it lives
In the eyes who see
With it's yellow perfect
And it's complexity

The practice begins
With a fallout yell
The men
They bend
And end
With a scream

The body
So pure and rugged
Like fresh blood
Of a wound
The lying corpse of a friend
And you say
God please make this end

A bandage
A bullet
My soul
Nothing left to hold
Nothing left to want
Fire fire fire fire fire

The wounds I hate
But must go through
They pierce my brain
Then kill you

Learn learn learn learn learn
The thought
The meaning
The action you take

The mechanical walloping
You must give
The people are you
Without a doubt
They feel
They hurt
They want to live

Even the beauty
Of a soft mellow cloud
Is detroyed
And mislead
By the few flying proud

Death falls from the sky
Nowhere to run
You can't hide
They smile and grin
And leave
With their slice of pie

The orders
From the fat political generals
The oozing success of his voice
He wants them now
He just can't wait
You scuff your heels
And hesitate
But he leads you on
Without a choice

Please help me
Let me visit your pearly gates
Cleanse my soul
From all this destruction
I must leave hereeeeeeeee

Goodbye maaaaaaa



When Johnny Comes Marching Home
When Johnny Comes Marching Home